Moondance
by xErised
Summary: Harry didn't realise how lonely his life had become, until Draco suddenly came dancing in. Complete. HP/DM


**Moondance by Xerised**

The lounge wasn't bright; whatever light that there was pulsed gently from the smooth, circular red lamps that drifted and floated unsuspended beneath the ceiling. A thick, creamy, luxurious rug carpeted the floor under the comfortable, plush sofas that littered the area invitingly. The tables were decadently decorated with different designs that fit in perfectly with the tastefully furnished lounge.

Right in the middle was a sizeable dance floor with a handful of couples who were wrapped in each other's arms and sashaying lovingly to the jazz music that was piped softly into the parlor. The air buzzed with the murmured and muted conversation of the patrons.

Harry Potter was stationed behind the bar of the lounge, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between thin lips as he tossed the cool, metal cocktail bottle into the air before expertly catching it with his hand stretched behind his back. Giving it one last shake, the brunette gently uncapped the bottle and poured it slowly into a glass. Reaching out to the bowl of plump, ripe cherries, he quickly fished one out and swiftly slit the bottom half of the fruit into two. A smile graced his features as he slid the cherry artistically onto the rim of the glass. Admiring his concoction of bubbly, frothy lime-green cocktail, he tapped his wand on the cherry and bright gold sparkles shot out from the tip of his wand, coating the cherry with beautiful bright yellow spirals.

Pulling the order slip towards him, Harry noted the number of the table that ordered the drink. With a casual flick of his wand, the beverage slowly levitated itself high up into the air and began to float purposely towards the table.

Harry let his eyes rove around the lounge that Reggie and he were co-owners of. It used to be the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, but the both of them had bought it and spent many days sprucing the place up meticulously. Harry grinned proudly to himself when he saw that the lounge was almost full. The usual customers of the bar were young adults that came here for dates and also for the locals who wanted to unwind after a tiring day of work. Harry let his gaze rove aimlessly around, before settling on a certain blond sitting in the corner.

Harry gulped audibly and looked away, but within a few seconds, he couldn't help but return his stare to Draco Malfoy. Leaning casually against the wall, the blond was the picture of poise. His brow was furrowed in concentration as Draco read his thick book. He was moving his lips soundlessly _beautiful, plump lips like cherries-_ as though he was reciting something to himself. A thin, lanky quill with a sleek, white feather was twirled rhythmically between the gaps of Draco's fingers. As though suddenly remembering something, Draco jerked up straight and jotted down something in the book. Placing the quill on the table, Draco shifted in his seat and lifted his cocktail drink to his lips, sipping graciously from it.

Harry's eyes followed the glass, noticing how Draco's long, slim fingers wrapped themselves around the stem of the glass, his fingertips almost caressing it lovingly. A simple, silver bracelet was looped over his wrist, and the polished metal glistened enticingly in the dim light. Harry continued to gaze in dark-eyed rapture while Draco gulped his beverage down deeply, marveling the way his unblemished, pale throat seemed to constrict attractively as he drank.

Suddenly, with a jolt of realization, Harry noticed that Draco's alert grey eyes were gazing at him _watching you watching me- _above the rim of the glass. Harry blushed furiously and quickly looked down at his bartender's table. Wanting to look as though he was doing something of use, the brunette carelessly reached for a frosted bottle of alcohol to his left.

Unfortunately, his sleeve accidentally brushed the bowl of cherries, and it sadly wobbled precariously on the edge before crashing forlornly onto the ground. Harry reddened even further and was just about to whip his wand out-

"Ah. My darling bartender breaking things again. Must be a Thursday."

Reggie Cooper sauntered out from the kitchens, and the delicious scent of fried bacon and sausages wafted to Harry's nostrils. Harry flashed Reggie a grateful grin, reaching a hand out to pluck a sausage from the plate.

Reggie turned his head to look at Draco, who was glaring _almost jealously-_ icily back at Reggie. The redhead shrugged uncaringly and focused his attention back to Harry.

"Third week already, Harry," Reggie pointed out, jerking his chin towards the blond.

"Yes, I know! I don't need a bloody reminder from you every week," Harry huffed irritably before choosing another sausage.

Reggie blinked at Harry and sighed.

"His name's Draco Malfoy, no? He's a teacher at Hogwarts."

"Oh really? What… what subject does he teach?" Harry asked casually, biting his lip and nervously twirling strands of dark hair around his finger. Reggie smirked slyly, knowing that Harry was trying to look like he didn't care at all about Reggie's answer.

As usual, he was failing miserably.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quite the heart-throb, I hear from my daughter. He gets mountain piles of Valentines every year from students like her."

_Honestly, Harry could be so thick at times_, Reggie thought as he jabbed an elbow sharply into Harry's ribs.

"He _fancies _you, Harry. He's good-looking _and_ brainy, unlike your ex. What was his name, Daniel, wasn't it? All I'm trying to say is to just go and _talk_ to him. I promise if he tries to _rape_ you I'll be here with the knives and choppers-"

"We've gone through this so many times, Reggie, and I don't think I want to-"

"Fine, fine. He comes in here every week for _something_, Harry, but I definitely know it's _not_ to read," Reggie finished simply as both men looked at Draco who was scowling up to the dim lighting. Reggie fished his wand out from his pocket and swished it at the lights. With a soft _whoosh_ of air, two lamps near Draco's table shot swiftly towards the blond before screeching surprisingly to a halt and hovering aimlessly near the top of Draco's head.

Draco blinked in astonishment and inclined his head politely towards the both of them. But an extremely astute Reggie didn't miss how Draco's smoldering gaze _loving you from a distance-_ lingered on Harry just for a fraction of a second more.

The blond put his book away and planted his elbows on the table. Demurely, and with long, feminine fingers tipped with clear, pearl-pink fingernails, Draco picked the cherry up from his glass. Locking his provocative gaze with Harry's shy one, the blond lifted the fruit to his lips. He let the luscious, plump lips trail flirtatiously along the gold spirals _tastes like honey, sweet and laid on thick-_ etched into the cherry. Opening his jaws just a bit more, he took the cherry in his mouth and chewed it delicately before swallowing it, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

The golden powder still remained on Draco's lips and was gently melting, dripping thickly and sexually from the blond's bottom lip. Carefully, with his eyes still boring into Harry's, Draco flicked his tongue out between twin rows of sparkling, predatory teeth, capturing the molten, caramel liquid. Seductively, the blond began to drag the edge of his tongue slowly over the bottom of his full upper lip; stroking _and I know how much you want me, that you can't hide-_ the gentle curve of his ruby-red lips.

Harry's eyes widened as he squeaked unceremoniously and quickly turned his body so his back was facing Draco. The brunette's arms did a funny little fumble and Reggie's jaw dropped limply while he watched the delectable plate of sausages and bacon tumble down to the floor.

Reggie sniffed and eyed the broken remains of the plate and the scattered food sorrowfully.

_every Thursday_

_nine pm_

_without fail-_

* * *

_He was dancing._

He was nothing but sex personified, all _hipslegswristswaisteyesfingers_ swaying drunkenly in Harry's vision. The rest of the bar melted away, and Harry's eyes sharpened hungrily on this… mirage that presented willingly himself in front of him.

Harry quickly looked down onto his incomplete cocktail and whipped his wand out to perform his usual golden swirls on the cherry. Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, the brunette risked another glance at the twisting form of Draco on the dance floor. His sharp grey eyes skewered Harry with his gaze, so it really shouldn't have been a surprise when the cherry exploded along with the top layer of the silky orange liquor in the glass, bombarding Harry's clothes with careening droplets of scarlet juice and bright orange alcohol.

Harry viciously cursed under his breath as he waved his wand, cleaning the mess up. Exhaling deeply, he forced his eyes to stay on his work-counter. Stretching out to grab his different alcohols to prepare a fresh drink, he quickly poured the correct amounts of drink into his cocktail bottle, throwing it high up into the air.

However, he let his eyes rove back to the blond who was piercing _I dare you to look away-_ him with his steely stare. Harry's greedy green eyes dilated helplessly, focusing on Draco's lithe, svelte body.

The bottle somersaulted dismally in the air before clattering onto the ground, the liquid inside bursting out and splashing onto Harry's ankles and feet, seeping dolefully into the carpet.

But Harry could care less about that; his eyes were scouring Draco's body hungrily like a parched man drinking from an oasis, memorizing every plane and hollow of Draco's face _fucking beautiful cheekbones- _with his eyes, scanning it mentally into his brain like a Muggle computer. He was rendered speechless while he stared unabashedly, devouring Draco's body with eyes as wide as saucers.

Harry could hear the resounding slickness of the bass guitar in the music burning furiously in his veins, the gentle hit of the drums ticking metronome-like in his head, the soft tinkling notes of the piano keys surrounding him. His mouth felt dry and his throat scratchy, and he devoured the way Draco moved _like no other-,_ swiveling his willowy body _fuck, those hips, do that again, fuck-_ from side to side.

Draco's shoulders slid smoothly and fluidly as he turned his body, his feet swaying and drifting to the clicking beat of the drums. He was dressed in a pair of leather pants that clung to his lanky legs _nothing but liquid poured into those fucking pants- _tightly, molding the perfect shape of his arse and hips. The pants were pure black and shiny, wrapping themselves contentedly along Draco's _as though they were proud to be clad in such perfect specimens-_ shapely pair of legs.

A glint of metal caught Harry's eye when Draco placed the heels of his palms on his shivering hips, his fingers splayed apart tantalizingly, letting his slinky body cruise across _trip the light fantastic-_ the smooth purple floor tiles. Harry goggled hypnotizingly at the glistening bracelet wrapped around Draco's wrist, and also the gleam of silver earring that Draco always wore.

Harry continued to gawk _visually delicious, got my three wishes- _at Draco; the way he tossed that head of blond hair dismissively while the rest of his body _slim, seductive, sultry, sensual thighs shimmying-_ undulated smoothly under the heady, throbbing music.

Draco's amorous grey eyes never once strayed from Harry's sheepish _fever yeah I burn for you- _gaze, drilling holes into the brunette. As abruptly as it had started, Harry mournfully heard the music stop as the song finished. With a pang of loss, Harry frowned when the couples left the dance floor and returned to their tables.

Draco smirked superciliously at Harry, his eyes half-lidded _mad affair-_ as he turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of the lounge with his hips swaying, letting Harry enjoy an exceptionally long stare at the perfect curve of his tight arse in those leather pants. Harry felt a strange sensation wash over him, as though he was released from a long spell that had been simmering slowly in his heart. He felt his world click back into normalcy, other people and things swimming back into focus and he was conscious of his senses _sound color touch movement sight- _again.

_don't leave now, I'm in love-_

"Care for a napkin for the drool? Or maybe a cold shower would be more appropriate," Reggie suddenly materialized beside Harry, a smug smile on his face as he eyed the other man's erection. Bending down with his wand pointed to the rug, the redhead siphoned the spilt alcohol out of the rug and cast a cleaning charm over the cocktail bottle, replacing it firmly back on the table.

Harry reddened and hastily adjusted his shirt to cover the tell-tale tightening of his trousers.

"It's my girl's birthday party next week, so you can introduce Draco, which would probably be your new boyfriend, to us there," Reggie suggested, a playful grin on his features.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry mumbled as he grabbed a wet cloth and began to wipe the counter which was already spotless and beaming up flashily in the lights.

Reggie sighed hopelessly to himself before launching into his infamous lecture.

"It's a _month _now, Harry! You know what happens when he comes in here?! You lose your _fucking _mind! Breaking things left right and center all over the place!"

"Well, just because you can't be bothered to use a _proper_ Reparo…" Harry sniffed, rubbing the table with a lot more force than it was necessary.

Reggie glared at Harry for a while and clapped his hands sharply. A piece of parchment the exact shade of the door that led to the kitchens dislodged itself from the heavy wooden door and zoomed gaily into Reggie's hands.

"A total of _twenty-four_ smashed plates, thirty destroyed cups, ten rips on the rug and two accidental gashes on the curtains! And all on Thursdays!" Reggie hollered, stabbing a finger into the parchment.

Harry blinked in surprise before arguing back. "But I repaired all those!"

"Well, yes, but I still keep count! Harry, don't you see?! He drives you _mad_; you're like a bloody disaster area around him!"

"So what if I'm just a bit clumsy?" the other man retorted, still scrubbing the table agitatedly.

Unfortunately, an extremely flustered Harry accidently nudged a stack of dishes, and the whole pile, all ten plates of it, came toppling down onto the floor with an ear-splitting crash.

The customers seated nearby jumped and glared angrily at Harry. Harry gave a faint smile of apology and quickly waved his wand over the shattered porcelain smithereens. Reggie exhaled sharply as a particular number on the scroll morphed from a 2 into a 3.

_34 smashed plates._

Harry swallowed nervously and peeked at the parchment. He shuffled his feet shiftily, biting his lip hopelessly and looked up into Reggie's bright, admonishing blue eyes.

"I've got it bad, haven't I?"

* * *

Harry had his hands wrapped around a warm, comforting mug of hot tea. A harsh, chilly wind blew in through the cracks of the windows and he could feel goosebumps _if only there was someone to keep you warm, hmmm-_ breaking out over his skin. Slurping his drink messily until some of it slopped all over his front, he shifted on his couch in his living room.

He let his gaze slowly travel to the many framed photographs that were dotted haphazardly on the walls where the paint was faded under the many bouts of sunlight that streamed mercilessly through the windows every day.

Most of the photographs had Ron and Hermione inside; a few that were taken when they were still schooling in Hogwarts, and a lot more consisted of Ron and Hermione's children together with Harry. The couple had happily decided to make Harry the godfather of their children, and Harry had accepted this responsibility _simply for some semblance of family- _with open arms.

Harry moved closer towards one particular photograph which was taken in Ron's home and he couldn't help but crack a smile. Out of all the pictures, this was his favorite. Hermione was sandwiched between a grinning Harry and Ron. Rose Weasley had her small hands around Harry's neck, alternating between squeezing her godfather joyously and waving jovially up at the camera. Hugo was ensconced safely in his father's embrace and he was throwing shy, reserved glances at the camera, a minuscule smile playing on his lips.

Hermione was winking mischievously and her arms were enveloping Harry and Ron's shoulders, holding them close to her.

At first glance, Harry knew that the three of them looked very close-knit together, but on closer inspection, Harry felt like he was an outsider in the picture. Ron and Hermione were exchanging adoring glances _gazes that only people in love know about, Harry-_ with each other and Ron's fingers were tangled endearingly in Hermione's bushy hair. Sometimes, the Hermione in the photo would lean over and press a chaste kiss to Harry's cheek.

Harry let out a small, longing sigh as he squinted at the photograph some more, concentrating on the background this time. He remembered how the Weasley-Granger household looked like every time he went over with surprising vividness.

Handprints dripping with gravy would be plastered all over the wall, baby toys and books and similar paraphernalia would be thrown slap-dash across the floor. The kids would be zooming in and out of the rooms, and Hermione would be running and shrieking after them. Ron would be beaming to himself privately in a corner, his heart swelling with pride.

Yes, the house was messy with clothes strewn randomly all over and the people were rowdy (especially when Harry went over to watch the Quidditch games) and the noise levels could sometimes reach to unbearable decibels, but the air was always permeated with love, family, affection and food. And more importantly, Harry thought to himself wistfully, there was no ounce of _loneliness _anywhere.

The next photograph consisted of the complete Weasley clan and their spouses, including Ginny and her long-time boyfriend of three years. Harry always felt a bit awkward when he looked at this photograph, like he didn't belong here even though the Weasleys had been treating him like family ever since he was eleven. The whole bunch of them still met up every month for dinner at Molly Weasley's house and he was grateful for these meals simply because they kept the solitude at bay for a while and because it felt like _someone _cared about him.

_"Oh, Harry, you're looking so thin nowadays! Come, give me your plate, I'll give you more chicken."_

_"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."_

_"You're welcome, dear. Now, when are you going to find yourself a nice man and settle down with him, hmm? Even Ginny's boyfriend has proposed to her already!"_

_"…"_

_"It really was a shame, that Daniel. He did seem so wonderful…"_

_"Mom, that bastard was cheating on poor Harry with **three **different guys at one time!"_

_"Ron, mind your language in front of the children!"_

_"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. It's been eight months since he's left, I'm fine really, thanks."_

_"That's wonderful, but you know how I don't like it when you're rattling all alone in that dingy little flat of yours. But never mind that! More potatoes, Harry dear?"_

Harry moved on to the following set of photographs which dated the transformation from the gloomy, run-down Hog's Head to the sleek, silky architecture of the lounge. Harry and Reggie were featured prominently in the photos, grim-faced from the soot and dust when they were re-furnishing the lounge. In a few other snapshots, their faces were split into maniacal grins as they stood valiantly in front of the brand-new lounge. There were also a few candid shots of Harry mixing his cocktails and creating his trademark golden cherries and of charismatic Reggie entertaining the guests with his jokes.

The presence of Reggie didn't do much to alleviate his forlornness either, since Reggie already had a family consisting of three wonderful children and a rather demanding wife under his belt.

Tearing his eyes away from the last of the pictures, Harry felt the smile slide off his face and an icy claw grip his thudding heart when he stared at the barren patches of faded bare wall in front of him. There used to be many photographs _painting pictures of the past-_ of Daniel and him together here, almost enough to rival his snapshots of Hermione and Ron.

_but ever since-_

Harry felt a cold fury start to roil angrily in his inside like a giant dragon stirring awake and he resolutely turned away and marched to the kitchen, draining the last drop of his tea. Dumping his mug on the pile of dangerously teetering dishes in the sink, he trudged out again to the living room, his eyes noticing the general scruffiness of the house and the way magazines, papers, discarded clothes and shoes and socks were strewn willy-nilly around the floor and coffee table.

_Why do you keep the photographs there like that, Harry? Is it because you really, genuinely like to see your friends and family on your walls, or is it because… because they help to chase your loneliness and fears away?_

Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, he went into his bedroom and changed into his sleeping things. Plopping down on the bed, he set an alarm for work tomorrow morning before snapping the lights off with his wand.

The moonlight drifted into the room, filtering through the dusty and unwashed windows, forming shapeless shadows and patterns on the empty, cold half of the bed beside Harry. Harry blinked and he hesitantly stretched an arm out. He clenched his fist, snagging nothing _maybe, just maybe a nice warm body would be nice-_ but cool, formless air in his fingers.

That night, Harry slept fitfully, with Draco Malfoy weaving in and out of his broken dreams like a shrouded phantom that he couldn't catch.

* * *

"Sorry, mate," Reggie whispered apologetically as Harry venomously threw the single white rose into the trash can, taking a perverse pleasure in seeing some of the petals dislodge themselves heartbrokenly from the stalk. Harry had spent hours painstakingly charming the flower so that unlimited sparkles of silver powder would float gently from the perimeter of the petals up into the air, forming a long, sinewy shape of a snake.

"It's alright. I should have expected him to fuck around with me like that," Harry replied bitterly, a hollow and mirthless laugh spilling forth from his twisted lips.

_cover me with kisses and lies-_

Today was a Thursday.

And for the first time in a month, Draco didn't come.

_you're gonna miss my love-_

"Er, would it be all right if you closed up for the night today? Tonight's my wedding anniversary, and the missus is at home with dinner. Kids are shipped off to Grandma's," the redhead said hesitantly.

Harry's angry features softened.

_Must be nice to have someone to go home to._

"Sure. Go ahead," Harry acquiesced, waving his hand dismissively. Reggie grinned, leaning over and clapping the brunette heartily on the back.

"Things're going to end up okay, Harry," Reggie assured, and Harry let those words_ just keep your head to the sunlight so you won't see the shadows-_ crash soothingly over him. Sighing deeply, Harry managed a small smile as he made a shooing motion with his hands.

Reggie gazed worriedly at Harry a few more seconds before rushing out of the bar and Apparating back home. Harry stared numbly at the spot that his friend had just occupied just moments ago.

Scanning the deserted lounge before him, Harry felt himself deflate just a little bit while he performed the necessary cleaning and sealing spells passionlessly as if tackling a piece of homework. Checking carefully to make sure that his stock of treasured alcohols was accounted for; Harry cast a powerful and unbreakable spell over his precious stores. Harry waved a hand distractedly over the few wooden chairs that they had, and they automatically turned over and propped themselves up on the bar.

Throwing a last glance to confirm that everything was in place, Harry stormed out of the place. Swiveling so that his back was turned to the road _back turned to the world-,_ he faced the entrance of the lounge and cast locking spells over the door and the windows. A thin, flashing scarlet thread darted forth from his wand and wound itself around the doorknob, spinning an intricate, unwelcoming little web _like my shattered Spello-taped heart-_ and finally fastened itself tightly across the gilded handles. The thread cut itself away from Harry's wand and it reposed contentedly, pulsating away agitatedly with crimson energy.

Harry dejectedly _alone along a seashore, with gentle aquamarine waves lapping placidly, a piece of the heavens as blue as your heart, because there's no one to share the day with- _stared up into the almost black night sky. There were no stars _you are far, when I could have been your star-_ at all; it was as if someone had slipped a velvety dark silk cloth over the world mercilessly.

_I'll pick up the pieces and mend my heart-_

Suddenly, Harry heard the sharp, swift clip-clop of footsteps behind him. As they got nearer, the footsteps slowed down. Harry froze, but he didn't turn his head to see who it might be.

Maybe, just maybe it was because a small part of him already _knew._

The brunette swallowed apprehensively as he stowed his wand away in his pocket. His fists clenched with repressed nervousness. He felt the blond move closer to him, and Harry could feel the warmth from Draco's body quivering gently in waves. Hesitantly, Draco lifted up his arms and placed his palms on Harry's broad shoulders, giving those tired muscles a small, affectionate squeeze. When Harry didn't jerk away, Draco bit his lip almost shyly _I'll wait for you like I always do-_ and let his hands slide flirtatiously down to the other man's tense shoulder blades and began to rub tenderly.

_like a flower bending in the breeze, sway with me-_

Harry felt his heart skip a beat and the ache in his taut muscles ebb away bit by bit under the blond's gentle ministrations. Draco's strokes were delicate _as if caressing a fragment of a treasured dream-_ but yet it set Harry on fire; the way his fingertips were like pure heat, letting bubbles of molten lava slide alluringly over the surface of tan, bronzed flesh.

_all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush-_

Draco stepped closer and let his flawless touch stray down south until his fingers were toying with the belt loops located at the back of Harry's jeans. With one hand fixed on Harry's waist and the other dipping down just a few more inches beneath the rough denim material, Draco's wandering fingers found the waistband _subtle shift in the air from experimental to predatory-_ of Harry's underwear.

Harry's breath hitched sharply as Draco slipped the tips of his fingers intimately into his briefs, letting the pads of his fingertips drop feather-light touches around Harry's hips, marveling at the smooth, attractive skin.

_on-stage rock star, back-stage porn star-_

Suddenly, Draco relaxed his grasp on Harry's body and let go of Harry altogether. The brunette wrenched his eyes open and was just about to turn his head back to-

The blond swiftly pushed himself close against Harry, his front glued to Harry's back, and the brunette gasped in pleasure. Resting his chin on Harry's right shoulder, Draco let his arms snake possessively around Harry's abdomen. Their foreign bodies fit imperfectly _like pieces of a brand-new jigsaw puzzle with unsharpened edges-_ with each other; the blond's sharp hips were digging into Harry, and Draco was balancing unsteadily on his toes.

Tentatively, Draco dislodged his right arm from Harry's waist. Sliding the index and middle fingers of his right hand out, Draco let the two fingers act like a pair of long legs, tiptoeing steadfastly up the buttons of Harry's shirt. A gentle breeze swept over the both of them, and the ex-Gryffindor could smell a faint scent of vanilla invading his nostrils. Harry trembled inwardly and the scenes of Draco dancing_ like there was no tomorrow-_ popped into his hazy mind _lust pouring in his blood-_ when Draco's wrist flicked skillfully and the top two buttons of Harry's top came undone.

_this may not last but this is **now**-_

Gulping jumpy gasps of air _like he was running out of oxygen-,_ Harry felt the curve of Draco's fingernails toy with his Adam's apple before slipping down to fondle the brunette's left collarbone. A single finger traced the length of Harry's bone and suddenly, Harry felt Draco press his whole hand domineeringly onto his chest.

A hiss spilt from Harry's lips when he felt the cool, metallic sheen of Draco's bracelet come into contact with his heated skin. Looking down, he saw that the bracelet was plain except for two simple, beautiful gems encrusted into it; a shimmering emerald _the color of your eyes- _and a diamond the exact shade of mercury.

Blinking in surprise, Harry turned his head to look at Draco's face, but all he could see was a flash of grey _liquid, limpid pools of grey-_ and the silver earring hooked onto Draco's right ear. The other half of Draco's face was cloaked in darkness. Scrutinizing the earring _that had haunted Harry's dreams for too many nights-_ Harry shouldn't have been surprised when he saw that it was in a shape of a dragon.

Harry blinked and gaped limply at the silver dragon that seemed to have just moved.

Giving his head a miniscule shake, he continued to stare at the ornately and uniquely designed dragon, which was almost as large as Draco's ear. It had tiny lizard-like legs clawed into talons and a pair of hard, metal wings glistened brightly in the weak beams of moonlight. Sharp, dangerous teeth were embedded beneath a flat snout. Its forked tail was long and serpentine, looped graciously around the back of Draco's ear.

On anyone else, this accessory would have made them look flashy and ostentatious, but on Draco_Draco_**Draco**DRACO, it just seemed to fit him perfectly _all smooth mellifluous ivory liquid-_ and made him stand out from the crowd.

Suddenly, the dragon's tongue flickered out playfully between its teeth, and it cheekily opened a leathery eye the exact color of blazing and flaming rubies _gryffindor rubies-_ and winked lasciviously at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened in shock and he quickly turned away bashfully, heart banging away merrily in his rib-cage.

Draco pressed moist lips on the nape of Harry's neck, reveling in the strong knobs of spine under the soft skin. Slowly, he let his hot hands glide _as effortlessly like oil on water- _up back again to Harry's shoulders. One hand remained on Harry's right shoulder, but this time, his left hand snaked all the way down, tracing Harry's biceps and forearms.

_there and then I will make you my own-_

Spreading his fingers apart, Draco began to let his touch slither over the network of Harry's veins on his wrist, enjoying the gentle rhythm of thudding blood _that had just reached a booming crescendo-_ underneath his grasp. Harry's fist was still clenched, and Draco pried it open with patient fingers before slipping his hand into Harry's. Draco stroked Harry's knuckles tenderly as he relinquished his hold on the rest of Harry's body so that they were both connected only by their hands. A strange, singing feeling crept up on Harry, setting his every nerve ending on fire.

_hold me closer I'm falling faster tell me this would last forever-_

Without even skipping a beat, Harry felt his thicker, calloused fingers squeeze Draco's hand roughly, twirling the other man back into his embrace.

_and when I know the time is just right, straight into my arms you will run-_

Now, they were finally face to face, and Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco's astonished expression. The moon, which had been hidden coquettishly behind dark fluffy clouds as though playing a game of hide-and-seek, abruptly appeared; beaming its rays full-force _like a spotlight shimmering-_ onto the couple, highlighting the red tinge _and all of the soft moonlight that seem to shine under your blush-_ coating Draco's cheeks.

With his arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders, Draco mirrored Harry's hungry gaze _green melding with grey_ before he parted his lips and spoke for the first time. His hooded eyes were shining coyly and his voice was deep and throaty, and Harry could feel his cock give an excited little twitch.

_stars up above in your eyes, beneath the cover of the October skies-_

He said two words; words that people said everyday to Harry, but the _way _Draco whispered it provocatively under his breath _like a childish dare-_, it made the brunette's toes _when you speak my name it's like a symphony-_ curl promisingly in his shoes. Draco's aristocratic tongue curled _making love to my name-_ in his mouth when he pronounced the _r_'s and his lips pouted fetchingly when he drew out the long _l_'s.

"He_ll_o Ha_rr_y."

* * *


End file.
